GOTHAM Ep 01 All the Little Girls Pt 1
by Backward Galaxy
Summary: Before the Dark Knight... there was GOTHAM. Inspired by the tv series Smallville, Gotham is about Bruce Wayne BEFORE he became Batman... Not based on YEAR ONE.


FADE IN:  
  
EXT. CITYSCAPE - NIGHT  
  
A sinister gloom hangs in the air, mingling within the stark buildings of the Gotham City skyline. Sustained rolling thunder warns of the impending storm.  
  
EXT. GOTHAM MIDNITE DISTRICT - NIGHT  
  
The pink neon "M" flickers out from the glowing sign above the local sleaze motel outside of which several GANG MEMBERS and STREET THUGS congregate to discuss the more vile rackets of the human stain.  
  
At a nearby street corner, a mother-daughter tandem of HOOKERS, MELODY and HARMONY respectively, wave to all the businessmen as they drive by, hoping to coax a big spender their way. As a curiously luxurious limousine veers towards them, slowing down along the curbside, the mother quickly, and roughly, cures a smear of rogue makeup from her daughter's cheek with some spit.  
  
MELODY All right now, you remember what I told you. You smile real nice for the  
man.  
  
HARMONY  
I know.  
  
Harmony swallows and forces a smile across her face as the limousine pulls up. The darkened window rolls down to reveal BRUCE WAYNE inside, a younger man with thick jet black hair, adorning a smoothly tailored suit. He greets them with a genial smile.  
  
BRUCE  
Hello, ladies.  
  
Leaning forward to greet him, Melody carefully positions her body to allow for maximum flaunting. She pulls Harmony towards the limousine as well.  
  
MELODY  
  
Hello yourself, handsome. Lookin' for some company tonight?  
  
BRUCE  
  
I was just headed home.  
  
MELODY  
  
Long day at the office? You look a little tense. I've got just the thing.  
  
BRUCE  
  
You two come as a pair?  
  
MELODY  
  
Whatever you like, baby.  
  
Bruce motions at Harmony.  
  
BRUCE  
  
How much just for her?  
  
MELODY  
Well, that depends on your pleasure.  
  
BRUCE  
  
How much for the whole night?  
  
HARMONY  
Oh, we don't.  
  
MELODY  
(interrupting) You ain't got enough for that, sugar. It's one, two, four, or eight for  
both.  
  
Bruce retreats briefly inside, pulling out a thick wad of bills sparking Melody's attention.  
  
BRUCE  
  
I'll give you four grand, just for her, for one night. I drop her here in  
the morning.  
  
Harmony barely has time to fear her mother's response before Melody grabs up the cash.  
  
MELODY  
  
Done.  
  
He motions to the back seat.  
  
BRUCE  
It's open.  
  
Melody nods and pulls her daughter by the arm, opening the back door of the limousine.  
  
HARMONY  
(scared)  
Mom, I don't.  
  
MELODY  
Just shut up and get in and don't screw this up for me.  
  
HARMONY  
(scared)  
But I.  
  
Melody forces her daughter into the limousine and quickly shuts the door, not even bothering to watch as it starts to pull away.  
  
INT. BRUCE WAYNE'S LIMOUSINE - NIGHT  
  
Bruce looks back through the glass at the timid young girl, a fearful expression on her face. She keeps her hands clasped together between her legs, curling herself into a small ball in the backseat.  
  
He turns and faces forward.  
  
BRUCE  
  
What do you think, fourteen?  
  
ALFRED, an elder man probably in his early 60s, nods from the driver's seat.  
  
ALFRED  
If that.  
  
Bruce presses a button and lowers the window to the backseat.  
  
BRUCE  
Are you hungry?  
  
HARMONY  
No.  
  
She lied.  
  
BRUCE  
Well, I hope you like milkshakes.  
  
Bruce leans forward and scoops up a cardboard tray carrying two of the single largest plastic cups ever made. The transparent top reveals a healthy topping of whipped cream and a cherry. A long straw protrudes from the top.  
  
BRUCE  
  
I wasn't sure which kind you'd like, so I got chocolate and vanilla.  
  
Hesitant at first, Harmony leans forward and reaches for the tray. She takes the vanilla.  
  
BRUCE  
So, what's your name?  
  
HARMONY  
(between sips)  
Harmony.  
  
BRUCE  
  
What's your real name, Harmony?  
  
HARMONY  
That is my real name.  
  
BRUCE  
(nods)  
That's a very pretty name. My name's Bruce.  
  
EXT. GOTHAM MIDNITE DISTRICT - NIGHT  
  
The limousine drives off and away, ridding itself of the reflections of Gotham City's slum.  
  
EXT. WAYNE MANOR - NIGHT  
  
A vast, rambling mansion stretches out across tens of wooded acres well on the outskirts of the dreary city. An awestruck Harmony looks out at the great manor, through the limousine window, like a lowly plebe admiring a palace.  
  
The limousine pulls up in front of the main entrance and comes to a stop. Alfred and Bruce step out, the elder man turning around the vehicle to open the door for the young girl. Bruce extends to her his hand and helps her out.  
  
HARMONY  
  
You live here?  
  
BRUCE  
  
Well, this is where I get my mail anyway.  
  
Ignoring her characteristically un-ladylike attire, Bruce pulls Harmony's hand through, and lays it down on, his arm and escorts her up the front steps to the door.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - DINING ROOM  
  
The lights out, the shadowy outline of a long dining table can be made out from the small light sneaking into the room from the hall.  
  
HARMONY  
(voice only)  
I've never been in a house like this before.  
  
BRUCE  
(voice only) It's nice. lots of space. I do hope you didn't mean what you said back in the limousine about not being hungry. I called ahead and had some things  
prepared.  
  
Bruce and Harmony turn the corner of the hallway and step just inside the dining room. He reaches for the light switch.  
  
BRUCE  
Again, I wasn't sure what you'd like so.  
  
The light turns on revealing an extravagant antique wooden table covered from end to end with the finest in dining cuisine; everything from an oven roasted ham to fried calamari, tossed salad and soup.  
  
Again, Harmony is taken aback by the treatment.  
  
BRUCE  
  
I just had the chef prepare a little of everything.  
  
Bruce smiles and walks her over to the table.  
  
EXT. GOTHAM MIDNITE DISTRICT - NIGHT  
  
Apparently left unsatisfied, despite her impressive evening take, Melody remains at the same street corner as before, blushingly batting her eyes at anyone with a fat enough pocket.  
  
For a second time, a limousine pulls up beside the corner. Melody steps up as the darkened window slowly descends. An older man, with a politician's grin, smiles up at her.  
  
MELODY  
  
Well, Henry, haven't seen you in these parts for a while.  
  
HENRY  
You know how it is when they put you in the chair, Melody.  
  
MELODY  
  
Yeah, or maybe you think you're just too good for us now, down her on the  
walk.  
  
HENRY  
You know I can't stay away.  
  
She motions around the corner.  
  
MELODY  
Pull around, cowboy.  
  
Melody steps away from the limousine as it pulls around the corner and down a dark alleyway. High heel to toe, she walks her way around the corner as well.  
  
Meanwhile, a TALL MAN in a hat and brown trench coat steps out of a vintage Chevrolet parked across the street. He crosses the street and heads towards the alley.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - MOVIE ROOM  
  
On a large video screen, a blue genie dressed in a flight attendant's outfit instructs a young peasant boy and his monkey about the flight procedures of a magic carpet.  
  
ALADDIN'S GENIE Thank you for choosing the magic carpet for all your travel needs. Don't  
get off until the rug has come to a complete stop.  
  
Harmony licks clean a smear of Hershey's chocolate syrup from her upper lip between chuckles at Disney's Aladdin. Trace amounts of what once was a banana split sundae pools in a glass bowl at her side as she sits on the floor in the movie room, glued to the video screen.  
  
Bruce, carefully eyeing the young girl, stands up from the couch behind her and takes a step towards the door. He smiles at her as he reaches for the doorknob.  
  
BRUCE  
I'll be back in a minute.  
  
She nods without looking back at him. He exits the room and shuts the door behind him.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - FIRST FLOOR HALL  
  
Bruce turns the corner around the hall and pulls a key from his pocket. He walks all the way down the hall to the last door, unlocks it, and steps inside.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - BRUCE'S PRIVATE STUDY  
  
Locking himself inside, Bruce turns on the light to his study. A single glance reveals this is no normal study. Instead of books lining the bookcases from wall to wall, there are tape boxes each individually labeled with a small strip of white tape.  
  
At the far wall sits a large desk. A state of the art computer sits perched atop it, plugged into nine viewing monitors, one large central monitor and four smaller ones stacked on either side. Six filing cabinets also stand on either side of the desk, spanning the wall.  
  
Bruce sits down at the desk and the monitors quickly come to life. The eight smaller monitors each display another room in the house through the perspective of various surveillance cameras. The larger monitor is the interface monitor.  
  
Keying in a few commands, Bruce pulls up the image from one of the smaller screens onto the larger screen. It comes from a surveillance camera inside the movie room.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - MOVIE ROOM  
  
Harmony plops down on the couch, her eyes still transfixed on the video screen. She pulls one of the pillows close to her small frame and cuddles it, resting her head on the arm of the couch.  
  
A small surveillance camera, hidden within the surround sound equipment, secretly spies the girl's movements.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - BRUCE'S PRIVATE STUDY  
  
Drawing a box around Harmony's face, Bruce captures a still of the girl on his monitor. Quickly tapping away at his keyboard, the main monitor isolates the still and drops out of video mode.  
  
Bruce stares intently at the monitor as a screen pops up, the large title across the top reading "Image Database". With a click of the mouse, Bruce sets a command in motion and, next to the still just taken of Harmony, a series of pictures of young girls begins to scroll through. Over the two images, a blinking bar reads "cross-referencing".  
  
Bruce leans back in the desk chair and waits.  
  
EXT. GOTHAM MIDNITE DISTRICT - NIGHT  
  
A dark navy blue sedan, an unmarked police cruiser with light in the windshield, pulls up outside the alley where a group of Gotham City Police officers try to push back an ever growing crowd of hoodlums from the alley entrance.  
  
Detective JAMES GORDON steps out of the cruiser, his dirty old overcoat matching the color of his dark but graying hair. His upper lip stiffens as he runs two fingers over his bristly mustache and shuts the cruiser door.  
  
To Gordon's left, an ambulance with pulsating lights sits parked next to a crime scene van. To his right, his partner, a younger Detective, FRANCESCA GIANNI, interviews a short and stubby LIMO DRIVER.  
  
GORDON  
What do we got, Francesca?  
  
GIANNI Double homicide, called in about an hour ago by Mr. Trynt here after his employer took a little to long to get his shoe shined by one of the local  
working girls.  
  
TRYNT  
  
I told Mr. Garner, we shouldn't come round these parts of the city. This street ain't no place for guys like him. But he said it would be okay. He  
told me to drive around the block a few times, fill up the tank. After  
about a half hour, I started to get worried.  
  
GORDON Did you happen to see anyone else going into or coming out of that alley  
while they were in there?  
  
TRYNT  
(shakes head)  
Nah, I didn't see anyone but, like I said, I was fillin' up.  
  
GORDON Ok, thank you, Mr. Trynt. If you remember anything else, just tell one of  
the officers.  
  
Trynt nods as Gordon and Gianni make their way to the alley.  
  
GORDON  
  
I don't suppose any of them know anything.  
  
He motions to the crowd of thugs behind the police line.  
  
GIANNI You think they'd tell us if they did? Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if one  
of them did it.  
  
GORDON  
Let's make sure we get them all interviewed anyway. and let's get some pictures. I doubt any of them will be giving out their real names. I want  
to be able to check them against the books.  
  
GIANNI  
  
Uh, we might want to keep the pictures to a minimum on this one, Jim.  
  
Gordon shows his badge to an officer just outside the alley and they exchange nods. Grabbing the police tape, Gordon pulls it up over his head and ducks through.  
  
GORDON  
What for?  
  
GIANNI  
  
Well, we have a little problem with one of the vics, Mr. Trynt's employer,  
Mr. Garner.  
  
GORDON  
What kind of problem?  
  
GIANNI  
  
He's that Mr. Garner.  
  
GORDON  
You're kidding.  
  
GIANNI  
  
Afraid not.  
  
GORDON  
  
(sighs) Swell. It's gonna hit the fan in the morning. Let's keep the press out of  
here.  
  
EXT. GOTHAM MIDNITE DISTRICT ALLEYWAY - NIGHT  
  
A trail of blood leads from HENRY GARNER, lying face first in a puddle of indescribable filth, his pants around his ankles, behind a dumpster to where Melody's lifeless body sits at an odd angle.  
  
JAROD, the young leader of the crime scene investigatory unit, leans his body over the collapsed Melody, trying to obtain a better view of the woman's face without disturbing her. All the while, a CRIME SCENE PHOTOGRAPHER snaps shots of the alley.  
  
GORDON  
How we doin', Jarod?  
  
Jarod forces himself upright as Detectives Gordon and Gianni approach.  
  
JAROD Well, Detective, my kid's got the flu, I haven't slept in more than a week,  
and I'm wrist deep in a puddle of blood. So, to answer your question,  
pretty crappy. How about yourself?  
  
GORDON  
I'm pretty good.  
  
JAROD  
  
I got two shots fired, back of the head for each vic. I'd say a thirty-  
eight.  
  
GIANNI  
  
Execution style.  
  
GORDON You've got yourself a trail of blood here. He crawled away with a slug in  
his head?  
  
JAROD  
(shakes head) Nearest I can tell, they were "in the throws", so to speak, when the first shot was fired. well, she was at least. He was still getting it polished  
when the hooker took it through and through.  
  
GORDON  
Ouch.  
  
GIANNI  
(to JAROD)  
And you thought you were having a bad day.  
  
JAROD  
  
I am having a bad day.  
(motions to Garner's corpse)  
He's having a really bad day.  
  
Gordon takes some latex gloves from one of the CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATORS and puts them on.  
  
GORDON  
  
And as hard as it is to imagine, it's only going to get worse for him. You  
know who that is, don't you?  
  
JAROD Of course, the honorable Mayor Henry S. Garner the third. I voted for him,  
ya know.  
  
GORDON  
Yeah, well, I can tell you at least one guy who didn't.  
  
Gordon kneels down next to the hunched over Melody, paying special attention to the woman's purse. He pulls out a conspicuously thick wad of hundred dollar bills.  
  
GORDON  
  
Hello, Mr. Franklin.  
  
JAROD  
(whistles)  
Well, I guess that rules out robbery.  
  
GIANNI  
  
That's some take for a street walker in one night. Maybe I'm in the wrong  
line of work.  
  
GORDON  
(shakes head) That's because this isn't one night's work. She was probably on her way to  
her pimp.  
  
JAROD  
  
Boy is he gonna be pissed.  
  
Gordon stands and places the wad of bills in a plastic bag offered him by one of the investigators.  
  
GORDON Well, let's get it to the lab and dust it. Maybe we'll get lucky, snag a  
print.  
  
OFFICER  
  
(voice)  
Detective Gordon.  
  
Gordon looks over his shoulder to see a uniformed officer, standing outside the alley with another hooker, a young Latina woman, vying for his attention.  
  
GORDON  
Yeah?  
  
OFFICER  
  
Can you come here for a minute?  
  
GORDON  
(nods)  
Yeah.  
  
Gordon takes off the gloves, handing them to Jarod, who looks at him strangely for doing so. Walking passed the crime scene photographer, Gordon taps him on the shoulder.  
  
GORDON I want this kept tight. I see any of those pictures on the front page of  
the Times, it's your ass.  
  
CRIME SCENE PHOTOGRAPHER  
Yes, Detective.  
  
Gordon nods to the officer.  
  
GORDON This is Jasmine, Detective. She works the corner on the other end of the  
walk.  
  
JASMINE  
(thick Puerto Rican accent) Oh my god, oh my god. It's Melody, isn't it? Oh my god, that poor girl.  
I feel so bad for her.  
  
GORDON  
  
Melody was your friend?  
  
JASMINE Hell no, I hope that bitch rots in hell. I'm talkin' about her daughter,  
Harmony. They worked the corner together.  
  
GORDON  
  
And where's Harmony now?  
  
JASMINE That's it, I just don't know. Before, Melody threw her in some guy's car and they drove off. Oh my god, that poor little girl, you gotta find her. Her motha' was a whore, but she ain't got nobody else. She's only fourteen  
years old. It ain't right.  
  
GORDON  
All right. Officer, I'd like you to bring Miss Jasmine down to the  
precinct.  
  
JASMINE  
What!?  
  
GORDON Relax, we're not arresting you. I want to set you up with a sketch artist.  
You describe the girl to him so we know who we're looking for.  
  
JASMINE  
Oh, all right, yeah. I want to help any way I can. That girl's such a  
sweet little thing.  
  
Gordon shakes his head as the officer escorts Jasmine to a nearby cruiser.  
  
GORDON  
Yeah. too bad she had to be born in this city.  
  
It starts to rain.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - FIRST FLOOR HALL  
  
Solemnly, Bruce steps out into the hall, locking the door to his study before making his way back to the movie room. Alfred stands outside the movie room, waiting for him.  
  
BRUCE  
(shakes head)  
She's not one of them, Alfred. I think maybe that woman really was her  
mother.  
  
ALFRED  
  
Regardless, I'd hardly call her that, Master Bruce.  
  
BRUCE  
Maybe you should get the car ready.  
  
ALFRED  
  
Am I to assume then that the young lady won't be spending the night after  
all?  
  
BRUCE  
  
She is a hooker, Alfred.  
  
ALFRED  
(nods)  
Hm. To think, five minutes ago she was just a lost little girl.  
  
Alfred turns and walks down the hall, leaving Bruce to ponder the older man's words.  
  
INT. WAYNE MANOR - MOVIE ROOM  
  
Bruce quietly opens the door to the movie room, taking a single step inside. He leans back against the doorframe, silently looking down at Harmony lying asleep on the couch cuddled into a tight little ball.  
  
Taking a breath, he steps over to a large wooden chest which sits at the base of the near wall. Opening it up, he pulls a blanket from inside and gracefully drapes it over the sleeping young girl.  
  
He leaves her to sleep. 


End file.
